


Look to the Sky

by Frenchibi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming of Age, Fluff and Angst, Graduation, Growing Up Together, Homophobic Language, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mentions of homophobia, canon compliant to some extent I guess, childhood iwaoi, mainly fluff, separate colleges, there will be pain but there will also be happiness, this is kind of a "story of their lives" kind of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: There’s the soft rustling sound of Tooru pocketing his wallet - Hajime knows, because he’s got this ridiculous keychain on the zipper and it rattles, Hajime knows because he’s the one who got him that keychain - and then the door opens.And shuts.And he’s gone.





	1. That's what the note says

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArturoSavinni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArturoSavinni/gifts), [fandang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandang/gifts), [Sound_Of_Inspiration](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sound_Of_Inspiration/gifts), [vaniae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaniae/gifts).



> I found this buried under a heap of fics that I'd basically abandoned, but when I reread it I really liked it? So I'm working through this and posting it! (Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my other projects. But if I'm blocked, I gotta put them down and work on something else. So have this for now - it's 80% complete and shouldn't take me too long to finish.)
> 
> This is a gift to four wonderful people who have left me kudos on more than 10 of my fics (and the occasional comment) - you guys are what keeps me going, you're the reason I write, and I am so grateful for your support, and that you keep coming back to read what I come up with. Thank you so much!  
> ( ~~I guess the fact that I keep track of these things says a lot about me... :'D either way, I hope you enjoy this!~~ ) ...and I hope this shows up right, I've never gifted a fic to more than one person before so... xD In case it doesn't - **@ArturoSavinni** , **@fandang** , **@Sound_Of_Inspiration** and **@vaniae** \- this one is for you!
> 
> Inspired by (and based on) Amanda Marshall's lovely song _Cross my heart_. Somehow it just screamed IwaOi at me.

_Joey D. loves Lucy A. - that's what the note says_  
_Fifth grade, he's in her row two seats behind_  
_Ten years old, the torture never ends_  
_One day at recess, she pulls him aside_  
_She's taken his hand, she looks in his eyes_  
_She's stepping in close, so no one can hear, then she whispers in his ear_  
_she says_

 _"Tell me all your secrets and I won't tell anybody_  
_Pinky swear that I'm the one you love_  
_When the world is dark and you could swear you've got nobody_  
_Look to the sky, it's written in the stars_  
_Cross my heart"_

~~~

They've been calling him names again.

Hajime hears them, even though he knows Tooru is trying to hide it from him. It started out harmless, with things like "weakling" and "sissy" and "he looks like a GIRL!" - and then a new word appears, one that Hajime doesn't know or recognize. So he does what any sensible ten-year-old would do - he asks someone he trusts about it.

 

"Hey, mom, what's 'fag' mean?"

Hajime has never seen the color leave his mother's face so fast.

"...where did you hear that, dear?"

"...just. At school. Someone was... they called Tooru that."

His mother's lips are pressed into a thin line.

"I'm going to explain something to you, Hajime, and I want you to listen carefully, alright?"

He blinks up at her, a little apprehensive. "...okay?"

"That word is something I never want to hear you say, ever."

"But- what does it mean?"

She kneels down in front of him, so she can look him in the eye. It's been years since she's done this, and he's too tall for it to work properly now, but something about the position makes Hajime shut his mouth tight and listen, eyes rapt and fixed on her face.

"Do you know what the strongest feeling is that a person can have?" she asks.

Hajime holds her gaze, then slowly shakes his head.

"It's love," she tells him. "Love is stronger than anything else."

She hesitates, then reaches over to take his hands in hers. "I love your father very, very much. That's why I married him. And I love you very, very much as well, that's why I'll always be here if you need me, and I'll always protect you. Do you understand?"

Hajime manages a nod, but there's a lump in his throat. This feels serious, and he's not sure he likes this conversation.

"There are... many married couples like your father and I, men married to women. But just because you're a boy, that doesn't mean you have to love a girl. You can love whoever you want, and if it happens to be a boy, then that's good, too."

Hajime's eyes are wide, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"But there are some people," she says, and her brows draw together as she does, "who think that that's not true. There are some people who believe it's wrong for a boy to love boys and a girl to love girls. And they use words like the one you heard, as insults to boys and girls who they think aren't _normal_."

Hajime opens his mouth to object, because that sounds so wrong and unfair and it's making him angry - but something in his mother's expression tells him she's not finished just yet.

"I need you to understand this, Hajime. These people are wrong. There is no such thing as 'normal'. Every person is different, and every person deserves to be happy. Nobody has the right to tell you - or Tooru, or anyone else for that matter - that you're wrong to love who you love."

She's watching him just as intently as he's watching her, and there's a moment of silence between them. Then Hajime nods slowly.

"Okay?" she asks, and she's smiling again. Somehow, he's flooded with relief.

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good. Don't forget that. And... Tooru should know it, too."

This time, Hajime nods with more vigor. This, he is sure about. That it's important, and he's going to tell Tooru exactly what his mother told him. That those boys were wrong (and wrong to call him all those other things, too).

He pulls his hands out of his mother's grasp with new determination.

"Thanks, mom," he says, and she gets to her feet, nodding at him.

He doesn't see her watch him go (running off to see Tooru, no doubt), doesn't see her wide smile fade to a soft, more melancholy one. If she could protect her boys from the people who were bound to hurt them, she would.

But Hajime doesn't know that. And he won't realize it for a very long time.

~~~

There is a reason those other kids called Tooru a fag.

Hajime learns that reason the very next day, when a crumpled up note lands on his desk. There's a small whisper of "oh, shit" and a few nervous giggles, and when Hajime turns around to see where it came from, his classmates are all avoiding eye contact.

He unfolds the paper, frowning, and blinks down at the words, scrawled in a ten-year-old's near-illegible hand:

_Tooru loves Hajime_

While the note was clearly not meant for him, his first instinct is seething rage. He crumples it in his fist, and turns to glare in the general direction of where the note came from, as if that would make the kid who threw it fess up.

It doesn't.

The next thought that crosses Hajime's mind is _how long has this been going on?_ His eyes dart to where Tooru is sitting, two seats ahead of him, and he almost winces when he sees how he's hunched over his desk, head ducked down low and not daring to look up. The girl in the seat beside him watches the teacher turn her attention to the blackboard, and then she leans over and pokes Tooru's side with her pencil.

"Hey," she whispers, "hey," and then something else that's too quiet for Hajime to hear.

Tooru just sinks further into his chair and shakes his head. The girl snickers under her breath and quickly straightens back up when the teacher finishes writing.

Hajime feels sick.

~~~

When the bell rings to announce the break, Hajime is the first to bolt out of his seat. He nearly knocks over the boy sitting in front of him as he scrambles towards Tooru's desk. He practically barrels into it because he has too much momentum, and skids to a stop as Tooru jumps in surprise.

"Haji-"

"Come with me," Hajime says, firmly, and he reaches for Tooru's hand.

It's no different from what they always do, and he tells himself this over and over in his head - because even though he doesn't want it to, that stupid note is getting to him. Not because he minds, or because he thinks it's true, but because he knows now what Tooru is afraid of.

Tooru, who already knew what "fag" meant when Hajime came running to tell him, who'd looked embarrassed and scared and then told him he couldn't come out to play today because his mom said no.

His mom never says no, not really. And if she does, she gives Tooru a reason - one he can then complain about to Hajime.

Hajime was upset that Tooru shut him out like that, but now he knows why.

And he knows how to fight it.

When Tooru doesn't move, he simply moves his own hand all the way and grabs his friend by the wrist.

"Hajime, what-"

"Just come with me. Please."

Tooru's eyes widen, and he shuts his mouth. Hajime hopes he hasn't scared him. Tooru sometimes makes fun of his "scary face", but Hajime knows that he's only half-joking. He can look pretty scary when he wants to.

Tooru lets himself be dragged from the classroom and out into the courtyard, and Hajime stubbornly ignores the whispers and glances from the other students. It's not like they matter, anyway. The only person who matters is trudging after him with his head hung low and his hair falling forward to cover his face. It hurts.

Hajime stops near the large maple tree at the edge of the playground - most of the kids are too busy on the swings and playing games to look their way here. He turns around, startling Tooru again, who looks up at him from behind large lenses that cover half of his face. When he first got those glasses, Hajime thought he kind of looked like a bug. Now they just make him look small and scared.

"Okay, Tooru, listen," he says, and he squeezes his arm for good measure. "I know what they've been saying about you."

If anything, Tooru just looks more frightened. He tries to back away, but Hajime doesn't let him go.

"I know what they're saying and it doesn't matter one little bit. Today... someone threw a note on my desk today that said that you l- ...that you love me." He blushes a little, even though he's trying really hard not to. He hopes Tooru can forgive him for being so awkward about all of this. But that's not the point. He has a message to get across. And Tooru is already flailing.

"That's- I don't- I mean-"

"Hey. Hey. Listen to me."

Tooru is squirming, and Hajime feels urgency boiling in his blood.

"Tooru. I don't care what they say. If you don't, that's fine, and if you do it's fine, too. Really."

Tooru stops, and he stares. Hajime breathes.

"They're wrong to call you names, and what they say doesn't matter one little bit. And if that's how all the others act, I don't wanna be with anyone but you. And I don't wanna fall in love with anyone else, either."

He swears Tooru is radiating heat, he's blushing so hard. But he's slid his wrists out of Hajime's grip and is squeezing his hands back tightly instead, so tightly that Hajime is afraid his fingertips might leave bruises. But he's saying this. As many times as Tooru needs to hear it.

"You know I'm always here, right? And as far as I'm concerned, you're way cooler than anyone else here. They don't know a thing about us. They don't matter."

Tooru lets out a breath that leaves him shuddering, loud and heavy and relieved. Then he looks back up at Hajime, and his smile is as bright as the sun.

"...I don't care what they say. I like you a lot," he says, and he looks like he's glowing.

There's a tiny, warm feeling that starts to build in the pit of Hajime's stomach, and it spreads rapidly to his chest, his head, his arms. He's grinning, too, before he realizes what's happening.

"Okay. Good. Me, too. Don't you ever forget it."

"I won't!" Tooru says, and he drops Hajime's hands in favor of jumping at him and throwing his arms around his neck. Hajime gasps in surprise, and he can't hold himself up, causing them to topple over into the grass. By the time they disentangle themselves from one another, they're both laughing.

~~~

Tooru doesn't thank him for what he said, but Hajime can feel something change.

It's in the way Tooru lights up when he opens the door in the morning when Hajime picks him up, in the excited smile on his face when Hajime drags him off during breaks to trade snacks and play games, and in the skip in his step when they walk home together, talking about anything and everything.

It's also in the behavior of the other kids in their class.

Once they realize that Tooru is no longer vulnerable, some of them start picking on Hajime - but that dies down pretty quickly, too. For the most part, they leave them both in peace now, and Hajime knows that hasn't escaped Tooru's notice. After a few weeks, they even manage to talk to some of their classmates normally again.

Some never come around, but Hajime isn't sorry to leave these people behind. He has Tooru, and he knows they'll be okay.


	2. It's the first night of the rest of their lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you calling me a mom?"  
> "Puh-lease," Hanamaki says, "we all know you're the reason this team doesn't fall apart. You're not just _a_ mom, you're _the_ mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have Chapter 2! *throws it at you*  
> This is super-long and super-cheesy and I have no regrets.  
> ...no seriously, this is probably the most sappy thing I have ever written. I hope you can forgive me.

_Time flies to graduation - they leave the party, take a drive_  
_She keeps asking where they're going_  
_He laughs and looks away; "it's a suprise"_  
_Out on the playground, right where they stood_  
_Down on one knee, he asks if she would_  
_He gives her the ring and she starts to cry_  
_It's the first night of the rest of their lives_

_Tell me all your secrets and I won't tell anybody_  
_Pinky swear that I'm the one you love_  
_When the world is dark and you could swear you've got nobody_  
_Look to the sky, it's written in the stars_  
_Cross my heart_

~~~

"Good morning, Iwa-chan," Oikawa sing-songs at him when he finally comes outside, bag slung casually over his shoulder and no trace of hurry in his step.

"You're too damn slow," Hajime says, not bothering to greet him and knocking his knuckles against Oikawa's forehead instead.

"Ow!"

"Shut up, Shittykawa. If we're late again because of you, I swear to God-"

Oikawa gives him that lopsided grin of his, the one that has Hajime on edge these days. "You wouldn't leave without me, would you?"

Hajime exhales deeply in an attempt to calm himself, knowing full well that all he can do at this point is give the setter empty threats that he'll never follow through on, and Oikawa knows this.

"Maybe not, but I will kick your ass."

"So lewd, Iwa-chan."

"Move, dumbass. We gotta go."

Oikawa makes a point of batting his eyelashes at him before he finally starts walking, and Hajime once again wonders what the hell he ever saw in him. But as Oikawa turns after only a few steps because Hajime isn't following him and holds out his hand expectantly, any doubts the ace might have had disappear. He rolls his eyes at Oikawa but obliges, lacing their fingers together and allowing himself to be pulled forward.

"If I didn't pick you up, you'd be late every day," he says.

Oikawa laughs lightly, the sound rippling easily from his lips. "I'd finally be able to get the sleep I deserve!"

"Sure, sure. You're a victim of the system."

"Precisely!"

"Well then, want me to let you sleep in the future?"

Oikawa humors him, taking a few seconds as if he's actually thinking about that question. Then he shakes his head vigorously, like the thought is something he'd have to get rid of by force.

"No, no. I'd miss your face, Iwa-chan. That scowl really makes my day, you know?"

"Oh, shut up."

"You love me~"

"I said shut up."

"But you do. Big, mean Iwa-chan isn't as big and mean as he'd like to be."

"I hate you."

But Hajime squeezes his fingers, not trusting himself with the words he really wants to say, not with something that important, not here, not now.

Oikawa just smiles and squeezes back. He knows. He's probably known since that day on the playground, all those years ago.

 

Once they're in close proximity of the school, Oikawa slides his hand smoothly out of Hajime's with a small smile. They both don't like it, but it's an unspoken agreement. Hajime lets out a sigh, knocking their shoulders together. Oikawa stumbles a little, but his smile seems a little less forced.

"Relax," Hajime says quietly, almost surprised at his own sincerity. Before Oikawa can reply, a group of girls pushes past them, giggling, and a couple of them wave.

"Good morning, Oikawa-kun!"

Oikawa's habitual wide smile spreads across his face, and he waves back. Hajime rolls his eyes and quickens his pace. It's just how things are.

~~~

Hajime tries not to let these things get to him - and he does a pretty decent job of it, most of the time. Sure, there are moments when he gets angry or impatient or jealous, but Oikawa seems to sense those, seems to know exactly when he's gone too far - and besides, the one who gets to take Oikawa home at the end of the day is always Hajime.

It's enough. It has to be, for now. Most aspects of their relationship aren't spoken out loud - they've been inseparable for years, and at some point they just got so close that there's nothing left between them.

When Oikawa took Hajime's face in his hands and kissed him after their first win at Kitagawa Daiichi, in the relative safety of the back of the team bus, it felt like the natural progression for them, the logical next step. And this, whatever they are now - boyfriends, for lack of a better word (it's more, isn't it? It's perfect trust, it's mutual understanding, it's years and years of history) - is enough.

Hajime knows Oikawa is happy this way. He knows, because he knows Oikawa like he knows his own mind, because he has learned to read him over the years, to see every nuance of expression on his face, to recognize the signs. He's learned to love him, and it's the most natural thing in the world.

He just hopes it will last.

With graduation approaching so fast, there are changes looming over them - changes he'd rather not think about just yet. The future feels huge and hard to grasp, and there are so many decisions Hajime has yet to make. But, as always, the more you dread something, the more time seems to speed up to take you there faster.

Class whizzes by in a flurry of notes and exercises and last-minute questions, and before he knows it, Hajime finds himself in one of the last volleyball practices he'll be taking part in at Aoba Johsai.

The restlessness of the third-years is palpable here, too, but it's not dominant - for the most part, everything feels like it always does. The coach focuses on the second-years, since they will be the ones to carry the team once the third-years are gone, and leaves the rest of the team to individual practice.

Hajime teams up with Hanamaki to practice spikes, but after a while, they both just sort of stop and watch the other team members.

Matsukawa is blocking for Yahaba and Kyoutani, who are working on their combination, and Oikawa is tossing to Kindaichi and Kunimi, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

The coach claps his hands to get the team's attention, and several heads turn in his direction. "That's it for today - make sure the gym is clean before you leave! Yahaba, you're on duty with the keys, so don't forget to lock up once everyone's done!"

There's a murmur of ascent, and everyone starts moving.

Kunimi says something that Hajime doesn't quite catch, and Oikawa whips around to face him.

"Uh-oh - he's going into Captain-mode," Hanamaki comments, as Oikawa raises his voice and both first-years turn towards him.

Oikawa starts gesturing wildly, no doubt lecturing them on something or other - and Hanamaki chuckles.

"How do you stand him?" he asks, and he only sounds half-incredulous.

"You build up a tolerance over the years," Hajime says, not even following Hanamaki's gaze.

"But you're with him practically 24/7?"

Hajime shrugs. "He's not always annoying."

As if on cue, Oikawa looks up and bounds over to them, throwing his arms around Hajime's neck and calling: "Iwa-chaaaaan!"

Hajime barely even flinches. "What?"

"Iwa-chan, the first-years are disrespectful-"

"What did you do?"

Oikawa pouts. "I'm wounded, Iwa-chan! The _first-years_ were-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you're innocent, Shittykawa."

Hanamaki chuckles, and Oikawa looks over at him, offended. "No one asked for your opinion, Makki! If you don't take me seriously, it's no wonder the other's don't either!"

"Sure, _Captain_ ," Hanamaki says, and his smile is so wide it's almost a sneer.

Matsukawa saunters over to the other third-years in time to hear Oikawa complain about how mean everyone is, and says: "Are we dissing Oikawa? What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Hajime says, just as Oikawa exclaims: "Mattsun, the first-years-" - and he stops himself to turn and glare at Hajime. "Iwa-chan, don't stab me in the back!"

Hajime rolls his eyes, then he notices Kindaichi struggling with the net and walks over to help him, Oikawa's frustrated cry of "Iwa-chan! You can't just walk away...?!" lost to his ears.

 

By the time the gym is more or less clean and Hajime returns to where the third-years are standing, Oikawa is still complaining and Mattsun and Makki are still making fun of him. Hajime ignores the banter and claps a hand onto the setter's shoulder.

"Move it, Shittykawa, c'mon," he says, and he's sure he's not imagining the way Oikawa's face lights up.

"Coming," he hums, his argument forgotten.

"There it is, the Vice Captain's healing power," Hanamaki mutters, and Matsukawa cackles a little. Hajime ignores them, and Oikawa is already too far ahead to catch the quip.

"Guess it makes sense that you're always together," Matsukawa says, placing his own hand on Hajime's shoulder. "He kind of triggers a maternal instinct, huh?"

Hajime raises his eyebrows.

"Are you calling me a mom?"

"Puh-lease," Hanamaki says, "we all know you're the reason this team doesn't fall apart. You're not just _a_ mom, you're _the_ mom."

"Yeah. No one's surprised you can control our problem child."

Hajime smirks. "There's more than one problem child in this family though."

 

They part ways with the other third-years at the school gates, and they're barely out of earshot when Oikawa turns to smile at him.

"They're gonna be a good team next year, don't you think?"

Hajime allows himself to consider his words for a moment, but then he nods. "Yeah. I'm sure they'll do just fine."

"...we should come back and watch them pulverize Tobio-chan and his team next year."

Hajime scoffs. "That's all you care about, huh?"

Oikawa straightens up in mock-offense. "They insulted our _honor_ , Iwa-chan!"

"...fair enough."

"You know you'll come with me anyway."

Hajime doesn't answer - but Oikawa is right, of course. And not just that - Hajime is sure he'd pretty much do anything Oikawa asks him to.

Before he knows it, he's back in that mental loop he keeps falling into these days: Graduation, and what happens after. What happens to them, to their relationship, in a year? Or five? Ten?

There's something he's been meaning to ask Oikawa, but he doesn't know how, or when. And it keeps pushing itself to the forefront of his mind.

Hajime's steps have unconsciously slowed, and he looks up to find Oikawa a few paces ahead, looking back over his shoulder at him, with his goddamn perfect hair and his casual demeanor, and Hajime's heart clenches in his chest. And Oikawa knows that he has this effect, he has to, because of the way he grins and holds out his hand again.

"Are you falling for me yet?" he asks, batting his eyelashes.

Hajime doesn't even feel like objecting at this point, or calling him out on it like he usually does. He just rolls his eyes (as he perpetually does, apparently) and laces their fingers together.

"Sure, Shittykawa."

He's probably never seen Oikawa look this smug.

"You're so easy, Iwa-chan."

"I'm compensating because you're so difficult," Hajime chuckles. Oikawa doesn't even look offended, he just laughs.

They walk in silence for a moment, and the setter's mood seems to mellow down a little. When he speaks again, he's quiet and sincere.

"I'm glad I have you, Iwa-chan. I'd be a mess without you, probably."

It's the way he says it that gets to him, the way his voice almost breaks a little at the end.

"Where's this coming from?" Hajime asks, with apprehension.

Something clouds Oikawa's eyes for a second, then he's smiling again, but it's fragile and thin.

"Just... I don't appreciate you enough."

He makes to keep walking, but Hajime tugs him to a stop, spinning him around by his arm to face him.

"You'll always have me," he says, and he means it. "So there's nothing to worry about. Whatever's bothering you - you can tell me."

Oikawa swallows visibly, and despite the apparent seriousness of the situation, it almost seems comical to Hajime. But the setter doesn't say anything.

"Tooru?" he presses, gentler than before. Oikawa's eyes widen a little at the use of his first name, but then he looks away.

"... I don't deserve you, Iwa-chan."

Hajime scoffs. "Don't be stupid. We've been through this. I'm not leaving."

"You could do better," Oikawa points out, and it's the matter-of-fact way in which he says it that makes Hajime snap.

"Who do you think you're kidding, Shittykawa? Have you _seen_ yourself? Seriously."

"... insecure and dramatic? ...weak?" Oikawa offers, and Hajime almost laughs.

"You only ever look at the bad things, huh. You'd think I don't appreciate _you_ enough."

Oikawa looks shocked at the mere suggestion. "What? No-"

But Hajime grabs Oikawa's other hand and squeezes it. "Listen. No - really listen, okay?"

The setter falls silent, looking up at him (up? He's taller, but he makes himself so small sometimes) with a complicated mixture of doubt and hope on his face. Hajime hates it when he looks like that, because there's absolutely no need.

"Oika- Tooru. You're... you're amazing, okay? And... you've had this... this pull on me, ever since we met. You're hard-working, reliable, hilarious and charismatic and- no, don't look at me like that! It's the truth. It is, okay? Even if you don't believe it, even if you can't see it. I can. And I wouldn't trade this" - he gestures to their linked hands - "for anything in the world. D'you get that?"

He takes a deep breath, and to his relief he sees the worry seep away from Oikawa's expression, slowly but surely. The setter bites his lip to stop the smile spreading across his face, still not sure he deserves to be told these things.

Hajime huffs out a sigh, then says: "Idiot. If that's what was bothering you, you should be okay now, right? And if there was something else, just tell me? That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

A real smile breaks across Oikawa's lips. "You're the amazing one, Iwa-chan," he says quietly. There's something heavy hanging above him, something else, but he's not quite ready to say it yet. Instead he leans forward, resting his head on Hajime's shoulder briefly before pulling away. "Come to my place?"

Hajime nods once, resolute.

Oikawa looks relieved, more relieved than his simple answer warrants. But Hajime lets it slide. He'll wait until Oikawa is ready to talk to him. He always does. And maybe, this will resolve itself.

And as for his own endeavor - he's determined to do it right.

~~~

The last day of school is a flurry of colors and sounds and people clamoring to say goodbye. The reality of them leaving seems to have reached the first- and second-years as well.

"Oikawa-san! Which university are you going to?"

"Did you get a scholarship?"

"Oikawa-san, can I take a picture with you?"

"Eeeh, you already gave away all your buttons?"

Hajime rolls his eyes at the hoard of girls surrounding the setter as he pushes past them.

"Oi, Shittykawa," he says, and that's all it takes to divert Oikawa's attention.

"Ah - sorry, girls, I gotta go - I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Aww, already?"

"Goodbye, Oikawa-san!"

He's all smiles and dimples until they round the next corner, then he theatrically slumps forward and drapes himself onto Hajime, who staggers a little under the extra weight.

"Gosh, this is exhausting sometimes," he says, and Hajime just clicks his tongue.

"You don't have to indulge them."

Oikawa disentagles himself so he can give the ace a shocked look. "I can't be rude to those lovely ladies, Iwa-chan! What would they think of me?!"

Hajime raises his eyebrows. "Does it matter?"

"Ooh, so inspiring, Hajime! A real man doesn't need validation, after all!"

Both Oikawa and Hajime turn in the direction of the new voice to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa approaching.

"That's why he hasn't got a girlfriend," Hanamaki says, nodding knowingly.

"He doesn't need one," Matsukawa chides in a mock-serious tone. "He's got a giant brat to look after."

Oikawa huffs, but doesn't retaliate. They're used to this (and it's not like they're wrong). Hajime just laughs softly.

"What are we gonna do without you guys around?" Hanamaki wonders, tipping his head to one side.

"Well - we'll finally get a full night's sleep," Matsukawa supplies, earning grins from the other three.

"No, no," Oikawa says, "You still have texting privileges. And we'll have so much more to tell you guys!"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa groan in unison, and Hajime shakes his head. "Don't worry, I'll try and keep him under control."

"The emphasis is on try," Oikawa says.

Hanamaki lets out a theatrical sigh that could rival Oikawa's. "Ah, but seriously - you guys had better stay in touch, alright?"

"Of course!" the setter says immediately, and Hajime nods.

"God knows I'll need you guys to strengthen my patience."

 

The ceremony isn't quite as picturesque as could have been expected, but it goes smoothly at least. By the end, few eyes are still dry, and there's a cheer when the third-year representatives announce a post-graduation party for later that day.

They head down to the gym to watch the remainder of the volleyball club practice for a while, saying their goodbyes before heading down the familiar road towards their respective homes. Matsukawa and Hanamaki part ways with them, again promising to keep in touch, and then they're gone and Hajime is the one to slide his hand into Oikawa's this time.

The setter seems more emotional that usual, but he doesn't try to hide it. He even cries a little at some point, and Hajime squeezes his fingers reassuringly. This is tough for him, too, but at least they are going to stay together for now, the two of them. That has to be enough.

When they reach Oikawa's house and settle on a time for Hajime to pick him up for the party, Oikawa stalls a little. Before they part, he holds out his hand and drops something in Hajime's palm.

It's a button.

"Oikawa-"

"Just take it, Iwa-chan. I saved it for you, after all."

Hajime stares down at the small, pale blue button in his hand, then bursts out laughing. Oikawa blinks, surprised.

"You're a sap," Hajime accuses, but he closes his fingers tightly around it. Then, with his other hand, he reaches up and rips off his own second button and holds it out to Oikawa.

The setter's eyes are practically glowing, but he can't bite back the comment bubbling to his lips.

"You sure you wanna give me your heart, Iwa-chan?"

"Too late to ask me that, I think," Hajime says, and presses his button into the setter's hand. "Like 10 years too late."

If Hajime had any doubts, they're gone now.

~~~

They leave the party early enough for some people to take notice (particularly a bunch of disappointed girls pining after Oikawa), but not early enough to be rude. Hajime has to tug Oikawa away from his fanbase by force, and Oikawa actually almost seems a little annoyed.

"Why're we leaving so early, Iwa-chan?" he wails (raising his voice for the benefit of whoever gives a damn).

"Cause I wanna show you something," Hajime says, just loudly enough for the setter to hear him.

"Huh?"

"Just come on already."

He's parked his parents' car outside and ushers Oikawa into it before he can protest too much.

He's nervous, but not too much so. It feels right.

 

Oikawa is fidgeting impatiently on the seat beside him, a mixture of irritated and excited.

"Where are you taking me, Iwa-chan?" he whines, for the fifth time at least, but Hajime just smirks, hoping his own anticipation isn't all too obvious.

"You'll see soon enough, Shittykawa. You really are impossible to surprise, huh?"

"For all I know you're kidnapping me!"

Hajime rolls his eyes. "Sure. I'd give you back after 20 minutes because you're so annoying."

Oikawa pouts, but says nothing, leaving Hajime to ponder his own words. Considering what he's about to do, they're a little hypocritical.

"We're almost there, relax," Hajime says, but Oikawa is pretending to ignore him, eyes fixed on the window even though it's so dark that he can barely see anything.

Apparently not dark enough, though, because suddenly Oikawa exclaims in surprise.

"Iwa-chan, this is-"

"...our elementary school, yeah."

Oikawa's eyes are wide as Hajime pulls over on the empty parking lot, and he looks over at him in wonder.

"What are we doing here?" he asks.

"You'll see," Hajime says, and he avoids the setter's gaze. He can feel Oikawa staring, but he knows he can't cave now. Instead he kills the engine and says "Come on, let's go."

The setter surprisingly does as he's told, getting out of the car and wrapping his jacket tighter around himself.

Hajime starts walking, and Oikawa hurries to catch up, reaching out to hold on to his sleeve reminiscent of all the times he'd done that in kindergarten, completely trusting his friend. Hajime smiles at the memory, and Oikawa raises his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing, just... I just remembered something, is all."

"You're weird," Oikawa says, but there's fondness in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah."

~~~

_"Hajime! Hajime, wait!"_

_Hajime thinks that the other boy's voice is too loud, too whiny, but he doesn't have the heart to push him away when he catches up with him and reaches for his sleeve._

_"Play with me, Hajime," he says, a little out of breath, his smile a little off but strangely determined._

_"Uh. Okay," he says, thinking that it's easier than refusing - but when he looks over at the other boy, he's rewarded with the most dazzling smile he's ever seen._

_"Uhm. What's your name? To..."_

_"Tooru!" the boy says happily._

_"Tooru," Hajime repeats, liking the way the name rolls off his tongue._

_Tooru tugs where his fingers cling to Hajime's shirt, pulling him forwards. "Let's go!" he says, eyes wide with hope and anticipation. His enthusiasm is infectious, and Hajime finds himself grinning at him. "Okay," he says, and that's it._

~~~

Hajime finds the spot from so long ago, where the two of them had stood together, and he pulls Oikawa over to stand beside him.

"Remember this?" he asks, shoulders hunched a little against the slight chill of the night wind.

Oikawa's eyes scan the area, then he glances upwards, at infinities of stars stretching out above them.

"Yeah," he says, his fingers playing with the sleeve of Hajime's jacket.

"Remember what you said to me back then?"

Oikawa turns his head slightly and looks over at him, blinking.

"You said that no matter what the others said, you liked me a lot," Hajime says, smiling. Somehow, he's not nervous anymore. He feels strangely calm.

"Still true," Oikawa says with a grin.

"Ah, but this time it's my turn to say something," Hajime interjects.

"Is that why you brought me here?"

Hajime shrugs. "Just seemed like the right place."

Oikawa releases his sleeve and turns on the spot, taking in the scenery on all sides before turning back to face his friend. "Yeah - I can see that."

He's smiling, but there's a sadness clouding his eyes. It's the same feeling from weeks ago, the same heavy _something_ pressing down over both of them.

"What did you want to tell me, Iwa-chan?"

Hajime sighs quietly, rubbing the back of his neck in spite of himself.

"Well... actually, there's just... a few things I need you to hear. And... and one question I want to ask."

Oikawa nods, though he doesn't quite meet his eyes.

Hajime takes a deep breath. He knows what he wants to say, but he's still searching for the words. He could have planned this in advance, but he'd only have abandoned pre-written words anyway because Oikawa does the most unexpected things sometimes. He's doing this spontaneously or no way at all.

"The... the most important thing is... thank you, I think. For... for never giving up on me, and for holding on, for sticking with me, for... for everything you've done for me. I know I'd never be the person I am today if it weren't for you."

Oikawa looks slightly taken aback, but then a dark sort of understanding falls over his expression.

"You're really doing this, huh?"

And suddenly he looks like he's barely holding it together. "You don't need to make it so wordy, Iwa-chan. Just come out and say it."

Why is it so _heavy_? What is it that's bothering him?

And suddenly, the cogs in Hajime's brain click into place, and he can't stop the exasperated sound that escapes his mouth. Oikawa looks up, startled.

"Oh my GOD, Oikawa! I'm not _breaking up with you_! Are you stupid?!"

Oikawa blinks, his face carefully blank now. Hajime buries his face in his hands and groans: "Of all the things- have you not been listening to a word I've said to you? ...you complete _idiot_!"

He resurfaces, running his hands through his hair. "Jesus Christ, you're making this difficult. Why on EARTH would I break up with you? I've loved you all my life, you dunce. I don't even know who I am anymore without your whining and your bitching and your laughter and that stupid smile. I don't know who I am without your hands to show me, dumbass."

The words are spilling out faster than his brain can keep up, but really, it doesn't need to. He has nothing to hide. "I want- I want to be together with you. Which is why I was... going to ask if you'd like to... share an apartment, or something. Cause I know we'll be doing different things from now on but I still want to spend time with you, and I... I kind of need you? Like... every day?"

He huffs out his next breath, right into Oikawa's complicated face.

"This isn't how it was supposed to go," he says. "I was going to... well, do this differently. But I guess there's only one way for us and that's straight on through, huh? You're so dense. And your personality is terrible. And you're a jerk, a crybaby, a prick. You're a fucking dumbass and I fucking love you."

Oikawa looks like he wants to interrupt, but Hajime covers his mouth with his hand.

"You're gonna wait until I'm finished. I'm saying all of this or so help me."

Oikawa's eyes are wide and Hajime can see the stars reflected in them, and he feels like he could get lost in their depth, lost in him, and he'd never regret it for a second.

"You're fucking unfair. You're an arrogant ass but you're also so goddamn talented. You're diligent and strong and determined and I'd be lying if I said you don't scare me shitless sometimes, but I still love you. You're amazing, inspiring, infuriating and I love you."

Oikawa tries to pull back, but Hajime tightens his grip. He's not done.

"You know something else? You're so pretty it should be illegal, and you're an absolute _ass_ about it - but I don't care, as long as you're mine. As long as I'm the one you run to at any time of day when you need someone, for anything. You've always been the center of my universe, and I wanna be the center of yours. I'm lost and I'm scared, but none of it matters when I'm with you. I've never loved anyone else, so I wouldn't know, but if this is what love's like then I want all of it, right now. I want to be a selfish jerk for once."

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the tears already burning in his eyes, determined to get it all out before he breaks down.

"I want you to be mine, and I want everyone to see it. Tooru, I... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want... I want you to marry me."

He's breathing more heavily than he had intended, but he's said it. He's said it.

Knowing there's no point in hiding anymore, he slowly removes his hand from the setter's mouth.

He holds Oikawa's wide-eyed gaze for what feels like a full minute, anticipation seeping through his pores and into his veins. It takes all he has not to step back, move away - but then Oikawa's lips part.

Hajime thinks he's going to speak, but the setter just opens, then closes his mouth, completely at a loss for words.

Finally, _finally_ he meets his gaze, on the same wavelength, under the same sky.

"...what?"

Hajime smiles. "...was that too much?"

Oikawa just stares.

Hajime's smile stretches just a little, and he says: "I've loved you all my life and I don't know how to stop, and I don't want to. So come and live with me. Let's... let's stay together, because that's all I know how to do. I know you, I know us, and I know how we work. I... want that. I don't need anything or anyone else. So... say yes. Say you'll marry me."

Slowly, gradually, tears have started to trickle down Oikawa's cheeks. He doesn't make a sound, simply stands there and lets it happen. Hajime feels drained too, like he's put all of his energy into this one moment, but he needs this to be worth it.

"For Christ's sake, say something," he whispers, reaching forward, towards Oikawa's arms hanging limply at his sides. "Anything."

Oikawa opens his mouth yet again, his lips form Hajime's name, but no sound comes out. Hajime makes to pull away, but Oikawa's fingers are suddenly clenched tightly in his own.

"...do you... do you mean that?" he manages, barely louder than a gasp.

"You'd think that after all this time, you could tell when I'm joking and when I'm not," Hajime mutters, allowing himself to reach up and card his fingers through Oikawa's hair. The way the setter leans into the touch, the way his breath hitches - Hajime feels like he lives for these little moments.

"I'd never joke about this. This... this is you and me, come whatever. I want to see what happens. Don't you?"

Oikawa's hands are travelling across Hajime's chest, almost frantic the way they brush across the fabric of the jacket, as if he's searching for something.

He is, Hajime realizes, as the setter's hand stops over the bump in his right pocket.

With fumbling fingers, Oikawa opens the zipper on the pocket and slides his hand inside. When he pulls it back out, his fingers are curled around the small black box. He stares down at it as more and more tears stream down his face, still without a sound from his lips.

Hajime had been carrying this around with him all evening, and while the weight of it shouldn't have made a big difference, it had felt like someone had shoved bricks into his pocket.

"... yeah, I know. I'm even sappier than you," Hajime says with another smile, but uncertainty is starting to take root somewhere deep down. What if he says no? _What if he says no?_

"Open it," he whispers.

Oikawa shakes his head ever so slightly, and he can see in the eyes that look up at him that he is absolutely terrified.

"What if I hurt you," he breathes, "Iwa-chan, what if I drag you down with me...?"

"You can't," Hajime says firmly, knowing that Oikawa needs to hear this, needs to know he is loved unconditionally before he can start loving himself. "You just can't. That won't happen. You know why? ...you know why? Because we're strongest when we're together, remember? It's not one player, it's the team that wins. You're not going down as long as I'm here."

Oikawa gasps into a sob, the sound breaking the silence around them, and once the first one's out, he can't stop. He stands before Hajime, hands dropped back at his sides, tears cascading down his face.

"...say yes," Hajime whispers, reaching out to him. He covers Oikawa's hands with his own, pulling the one that's clenched around the box upwards.

"...say yes," he says again, just as quietly. "Tooru. Tooru, please, please say yes. I love you, please let me. Let me. Let me love you."

And Oikawa Tooru breaks.

He falls forward and Hajime catches him, wrapping his arms around the setter's slender figure as Oikawa sobs into his chest with heaving, ragged breaths. Words tumble from his mouth, incoherent but Hajime takes them all in, like they're a gift, like he'll treasure them for the rest of his life.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa gasps, "Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan," and "I don't deserve you," and "please, please don't leave me," and then "I love you, I love you, Iwa-chan, I love you, I love you, I love you," and "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

Hajime feels like he's been holding his breath his entire life and is now finally allowed to exhale, and his legs give way and they're both falling to their knees. Oikawa buries his face in the crook of his neck and his fingers dig into his back, aching to be closer, _closer_.

Oikawa is the messiest, ugliest crier in the universe and he's blubbering, gasping for air, falling to pieces and all Hajime can think is that he loves him, he loves every last fucked-up part of him, loves him so much it feels like it'll tear his chest in half. It's all-encompassing, absolute, and once he lets it take over it's all he sees - this beautiful, broken boy in his arms, and he's HIS. He's everything.

Somewhere along the line it's all too much, and now they're both crying, all the weight and worry and fear coming away in waves and letting bone-deep, gut-wrenching relief seep in.

It feels like ages before either of them is ready to speak again, but it doesn't matter. Hajime guides them both down to the ground and they curl in on each other in the grass, not caring about the cold of the ground or the dirt on their clothes. Once their tears dry, they're both staring up at the sky above them, at the brilliant lights surrounding them, at how small that makes them in comparison.

"...white and blue," Oikawa says quietly, his voice a little hoarse from the strain. "Don't you think?"

Hajime blinks, turning his head to ask what the hell he's talking about, when he realizes this is about _color schemes_.

He stares at the setter for almost ten full seconds, then bursts out laughing.

Oikawa joins in, and neither of them can seem to stop, their broken voices mingling together in the crisp night air, almost too sharp, too real.

"Ohmygod," Hajime gasps, catching his breath, "You're... you're so... this is ridiculous!"

Oikawa smiles, and it's the first unfiltered, real smile Hajime has seen in what feels like years. The setter looks like he doesn't have a care in the world, like he's finally, finally okay. Hajime decides that it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"...but you love me," Oikawa says quietly, pulling himself close. And he sounds like he's almost letting himself believe it.

"Yeah, I do." Hajime ignores the last doubt in the other's voice and presses his lips to Oikawa's temple. They'll be okay. He knows it. "Always have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say I was sorry for the cheese, but I'm just... not ^^'  
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com)!


	3. When you think your life is passing you by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long, so I won't bore you with explanations or excuses. I wrote most of this in a fit of emotion, so if you find spelling errors or the like, let me know.  
> I'm not abandoning any of my projects so far, I promise! Even if it takes me way too long to finish them.  
> I'm working on it, I promise.

_Young love gets old real fast in a small town_  
_When you think your life is passing you by_  
_It kills him to let her go_  
_But she wants to fly_  
_So he gives her the wings_  
_And tells her goodbye_

_Baby, goodbye_

~

"Iwa-chan, did you know that you actually grow taller in space?"

Hajime looks over at Tooru, prepared to roll his eyes at him - but he's caught off guard by the reflections of thousands of tiny lights in his glasses. He looks like he's glowing.

Hajime loses his words for a moment, so he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for the punchline.

Tooru shoots him a glance, then his gaze darts back up to the sky.

"It's because gravity pushes you down, here on earth. But when you're in space, your spine straightens out and your height can increase up to 5 centimeters!"

Oh, he knows where this is going now.

"You could actually be taller than me! You'd just have to go to space!"

Hajime clicks his tongue, but he doesn't fight the smile on his face. "That's dumb, Shittykawa. You'd grow 5 centimeters, too!"

Tooru thinks about this for a second, but then he turns his head to look directly at Hajime, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You'd take me with you?"

"What, if I went to space? Well, duh?"

Tooru searches his face, and Hajime's not sure what he's looking for, but then his gaze detaches again and he focuses on the stars above them.

"...if I went to space, I'd want it to be with you. It's... it's so huge and scary."

Hajime shifts onto his side, facing Tooru, and props himself up on his elbow. He tries to ignore the implications, and the urge to say _me, too. The only person I'd want to go with is you._

"Scary, huh? You sure seem to love it a lot, though."

"Because it's beautiful and vast and endless, Iwa-chan. Who knows what's out there? There could be anything. It's... fascinating." And then he adds, quieter, "...and terrifying."

"Exactly. Where'd we even go, if we went to space?"

Tooru turns to smile at him, and it's suddenly strained, and sad.

"Anywhere. Away from here. Somewhere I can love you and not have to feel guilty for it."

It's like someone tightened their hand around Hajime's windpipe. He can no longer breathe, and his insides twist uncomfortably.

He pushes through, reaching out and pulling Tooru to his chest without another word.

Tooru lets out a small, surprised sound, but he lets him, and he settles into his arms without question.

"...d'you call him again?" Hajime asks quietly, running his hands over Tooru's back.

His lack of response is as good an answer as any. Hajime lets out a small sigh.

It's not like he can tell him to just let it go. It's more complicated than that.

He remembers bringing Tooru home, his mother's excited shriek - and his father's gaze that had gone cold and hard.

_"I've tolerated your fooling around and your experimenting for long enough, Tooru. This ends. Now."_

Tooru's confused, hurt expression and his mother's attempt to intervene are all fresh in Hajime's mind, as is the fight that evening that ended with Tooru turning on his heel and running away from home for the first time in over ten years. He remembers the tears that followed after, and many, many attempts at reconciliation that always seemed to end in more shouting or doors slammed in people's faces.

Even now, almost half a year later, it's still hard.

At least Hajime has been able to give him a home - even if it's tiny and cramped, the taps leak sometimes and it gets pretty damn cold in winter. It's a small one-bedroom apartment and it's _theirs_. When Tooru gets sad or overwhelmed or angry, Hajime is there to hold him close until he's calmed down. It's a little broken, maybe, but it works, and Hajime wouldn't trade it for the world. He loves this boy with all his heart, and he wouldn't know how to stop even if he wanted to.

 

~

 

...which is why the letter is like a kick to his stomach.

It comes in the mail together with their monthly bills, so Hajime doesn't notice it at first, but then the stamps on it catch his eye.

"...Tooru?"

Tooru sticks his head out from behind the bedroom door, eyes still a little glazed over from sleep and hair sticking up in all directions.

"Hm?"

"...there's a letter here for you... from America?"

It's almost scary, how fast he snaps to attention. All traces of fatigue are suddenly gone, and his eyes widen. He pushes out of the bedroom, still clutching one of their blankets around himself for warmth, and hurries over to take the letter from Hajime's hands.

"Thanks, Iwa-chan."

He turns to leave, and Hajime throws him a questioning look.

"Something you're expecting?"

Tooru nods absently, already focused on the letter and the address printed on the back, and only half-listening.

Hajime waits for an explanation, but Tooru doesn't offer one. He pads back across the room to the bedroom, and actually shuts the door behind himself once he's back inside. Hajime hears the lock click, and something is definitely wrong.

"...Tooru?"

"Give me a minute," comes the reply.

_Give me a minute._

 

The walls are thin (the neighbors haven't been complaining, exactly, but their glances say more than words), but Hajime has never really noticed it himself. They don't close the doors here - the space is small enough as it is, and even when they're working on separate projects, they like to hear each other. Tooru hums while he works, and Hajime has gotten used to the sound. He probably couldn't concentrate without it.

Now that the door is closed, though, Hajime realizes that it barely makes a difference.

He's on the phone. Hajime tries not to listen, because Tooru told him to wait and he trusts him, even if he's confused and worried at the moment - it's almost impossible to tune out, though, especially when Tooru starts raising his voice.

"...no, no, you're not listening, it says _immediately_ -"

Hajime turns on the radio, letting senseless pop songs wash over him, but it's not enough to block out snippets of the conversation Tooru is having.

"You know I can't do that!"

Hajime hovers beside the table, caught and sort of helpless. It's the worst feeling.

"Stop suggesting that, like everything's just sunshine and roses?! It's NOT!"

He walks over to the sofa, but to do that, he has to pass the door to the bedroom.

"...feels like lying to him, and I can't-"

Hajime exhales, forcing himself to sit down. _He'll tell me._ Suddenly, Tooru is yelling again.

"I _would_ , I've _tried_ , but you know how he is! He won't listen!"

Hajime can hear him pacing now, and the anger in his voice makes his heart hitch in his chest.

"I don't _care_! No, don't use that psycho-analysis crap on me! I. Don't. Care!"

It must be his mother he's talking to.

Hajime knows he's been calling her - and his father, too, though he never does that when Hajime is around. Tooru's mother is a smart, kind woman, but in this case Hajime can't help but resent her - she's constantly downplaying everything Tooru's father has been throwing at them, telling Tooru to come to his senses and come home. That hurts, especially after she'd been so excited when Hajime had told her that he wanted to marry her son.

Tooru has gone quiet, and Hajime bites his lip. Whatever is happening - it's clearly nothing good. His brain is already going over all possible scenarios, even though he knows the sensible thing to do would be to wait for an explanation.

Tooru told him to wait, so he will, but that doesn't make it any easier.

 

When he doesn't emerge from their room for over twenty minutes, Hajime's worry takes over, and he goes to knock on the door - but it opens before his knuckles even touch the wood, and he's face to face with Tooru.

They stare at each other for a second, Hajime taking note of the tight set of his jaw and the way he can't quite meet his gaze, the bag slung over his shoulder, and then-

"I have to go."

Hajime almost steps back in surprise. "...go where? Tooru, what's going on?"

"Just- go. I need- there's some things I have to do."

He makes to push past him, and Hajime can't stay silent any longer. He whirls around and grabs Tooru's wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait."

"Iwa-chan, I have to-"

"No, listen! No more running, remember? No lies. What's going on?"

Tooru tries to pull away, shaking his head, but Hajime tightens his grip.

"Tooru. Tooru, hey. I'm worried."

He's shaking his head again, and there's tiny tears building in the corners of his eyes. "I can't, okay? I know we said no lies, that's why- that's why I need to go, that's why I need time! It's- I need to think, okay, this is too big-"

"Did you get accepted?"

Tooru stops struggling, and finally looks up to meet his eye. He looks... caught. Hajime's eyes widen.

"...that's..." he points to the letter that Tooru is clutching in his other hand. "...that's from one of the colleges you applied to?"

Slowly, Tooru shakes his head. "I... didn't apply outside of Japan."

Hajime knows this. They'd talked about this, about college, about applying in places they could go to together-

"This- they... they scouted me."

Hajime blinks, trying to clear his head, trying to make sense of what this means.

"A college in... in America wants you?"

Tooru nods - and something stings.

"...why couldn't you just tell me that?" Hajime asks quietly, releasing Tooru's arm. "That's... that's amazing, Tooru. What are you gonna do?"

Tooru is looking at the floor again, doing what he always does when he gets nervous - fiddling with his fingers. Ever since that night on the playground, he's taken to twisting his ring a lot, and now Hajime can't seem to concentrate on anything else.

It looks like it belongs there, but it feels like Tooru wants it off.

"I'm... I need to think about it," he says, and Hajime is both grateful and terrified of his honesty. And then, "I need to go home."

Hajime's eyes widen.

"...are you sure?"

Tooru lets out a broken sort of laugh. "How could I be? My dad hates the choices I've made."

"...so you want his approval for this one?"

It's out before Hajime can think to stop it, and hurt crosses Tooru's face like he'd slapped him. Their eyes meet, and Hajime takes a step back.

"Sorry," he says. "It's... none of my business, really."

_Except you’re changing all our plans. Why won’t you talk to me?_

He doesn't mean to get angry, or offended, but he can't seem to control it. _Give me a minute_ , so Tooru could just walk out on him, on everything they'd promised to build, in favor of his father's approval and a scholarship in America?

He looks at Tooru, who is looking down again, and exhales.

"Fine. Do what you have to do." It comes out harsh, biting, and he turns away before Tooru can reply.

This time he's the one to close the door between them.

 

Hajime knows he should be better than this.

Tooru is completely capable of making his own choices, and if he wants his family's input then he is perfectly entitled to go and get it.

He’s just... having a hard time understanding why Tooru would want it, after everything that’s happened.

Outside the closed bedroom door, Tooru is silent for the longest time, so long in fact that Hajime is almost sure he’s already left. But then he hears him, moving from where he must have been standing just as still as Hajime is on the other side of the door. He recognizes the sounds, because they’re familiar, they’ve become a constant in his life like the smell of Tooru’s shampoo on his pillow and the nights they spend watching documentaries together on the couch. He hears Tooru fumbling for his coat by the front door, and pull on his shoes. The sounds are loud in the silence that’s already falling over the entire world, somehow, covering everything in a blanket numbness that’s already settling in.

He’s leaving. Now, and maybe… maybe even to America.

There’s the soft rustling sound of Tooru pocketing his wallet - Hajime knows, because he’s got this ridiculous keychain on the zipper and it rattles, Hajime knows because he’s the one who _got_ him that keychain - and then the door opens.

And shuts.

And he’s gone.

 

~

 

The day goes by in a blur, and Hajime feels like the weather is mocking him. The sun filters in through the windows all too harshly, but it does nothing to make everything feel less gray and awful. He knows there’s nothing he can do now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he feels like he needs to move.

He goes out for a run, but it just makes him sink deeper into his thoughts, so much so that he almost collides with an elderly lady and her dog in the park - so he abandons the idea that it would take his mind off things or help him focus. He doesn’t want to go back to the apartment either, so he sits down on one of the park benches, staring at nothing and letting himself drift.

The thing is - somewhere, subconsciously, Hajime has always been waiting for something to change.

The life he’s been building with Tooru, the normalcy of it, the comfort and simplicity with which they fit together felt absolute and permanent to him, like all the potential issues they might have had to face would miraculously vanish if they just stuck together, like his feelings for Tooru would somehow fix everything. Like they were destined to be together, and this was their happily ever after, starting now, starting after that night at the playground.

The truth is, though, that even if having Tooru with him, beside him ( _finally, finally_ ) makes everything seem less awful, it can’t solve all their problems. Actually, it can’t solve any of them. Having Tooru close won’t help Hajime decide on his major, it won’t help the fact that they’ve both been working part-time to afford their apartment - it won’t change that Hajime has always been chasing Tooru, and Tooru has always been chasing the top.

Tooru doesn’t do things halfway. Tooru does them fully, with all his heart and all his effort, or not at all.

It’s knowing this that gave Hajime the courage to confess to him in the first place. Because even though they’d been inseparable for as long as he can remember, and they’d always been close, they’d never talked about their relationship until Hajime bit the bullet and brought the topic up.

Tooru loves with his entire being, and he’ll never stop. Hajime knows Tooru wouldn’t leave him for the world, knows that any twinge of jealousy he feels when someone else approaches Tooru is completely unfounded because Tooru is way too loyal to ever look at anyone else.

He knows Tooru better than he knows himself, sometimes - so he should have known that playing on a university volleyball team wouldn’t satisfy him.

Above all, Hajime could have anticipated that if he could see how brilliant Tooru is, other people were bound to see it too.

_...scouted to America, huh?_

He rubs a hand over his face, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. He hates feeling helpless, like nothing he says is going to make a difference - sometimes he feels like Tooru is always running and shows no signs of stopping, while Hajime himself has been slowing. Settling down.

Maybe Tooru isn’t ready for that yet.

...it doesn’t change that Hajime wants him to be.

 

Hajime finds himself fiddling with his phone all evening.

Tooru must have arrived by now - but there hasn’t been a single text message, let alone a call. It’s radio silence, and on his social media profiles, too.

And Hajime may be panicking.

Tooru isn’t one to stay silent for very long. Even when they fought-

Well. They haven’t had a big argument like this since they moved in together, and it’s not like Hajime has ever had to worry about Tooru’s safety, because he was always just one room away.

He tries to rationalize it - his phone could be dead. He could be out with someone from home, someone he met?

The thought of Tooru’s father and his _yelling_ pushes itself to the forefront of his mind, and the worry takes over.

What if he’s not okay at all?

 

Needless to say, anxiety is seeping in from all sides. Hajime waits until it’s objectively too late to call, and ends up sprawled out over their bed, fully clothed, phone clutched loosely in his outstretched hand.

(...when has that ever bothered him before? They’ve never cared about _too late_ or _too early_. When Tooru needs something, he calls. The same rules apply to Hajime. So why can’t he make the call now?)

Maybe it’s because this entire day has opened up doubts. Ones Hajime had thought he’d gotten rid of by now. Ones Tooru had helped him refute time and time again.

They’re pesky, too close, too real all of a sudden.

He should trust him. Why is this so hard?

 

~

 

When Hajime wakes, he hurts all over. His biological clock is in ruins and he feels restless and immeasurably tired at the same time - the alarm clock on the bedside table tells him it’s just after 5:30am, and the crisp, too-bright light of the rising sun is starting to crack through the blinds. Must’ve forgotten to close them.

He instinctively reaches over to where Tooru would be, if they’d been sleeping as usual - even though he knows he’s not there. He knows by the bitter taste in his mouth when he wakes up, by the crick in his neck, by the clothes from yesterday.

He raises his hand to rub at his face, and realizes he’s still holding his phone. He clicks the home button, and the display flashes to life.

His battery’s almost dead, tiny red light blinking angrily at him as he squints at it.

No new messages.

Hajime chucks it off the bed.

 

He doesn’t charge it all day.

In fact, he leaves it right there, on the floor. Doesn’t even check if it’s cracked.

This is ridiculous.

Two can play this game, no matter how childish it is. He won’t be the first to break. Tooru surely has a reason for not calling, for not texting.

Hajime is sure at this point he’s pissed enough to not worry about this goddamn idiot.

 

...he’s wrong.

 

He’s not even outside for ten minutes before he regrets not bringing his phone. But here’s where Tooru’s influence kicks in - he’s gotten too stubborn to admit to himself that the reason his stomach is churning and his throat is dry is because he’s worried about him.

So instead of going home to get his phone, he stays out.

He walks through the park, watching a group of kids toss around a frisbee for a while and counting dogs (26) until he grows too restless - then he buys a train ticket into town and walks through the mall, not really seeing anything, just letting the rush of people carry him along.

Nothing helps.

Eventually, he gives up and heads back home, exhausted and drained - and at this point he’s too tired to even deny that once he’s unlocked the door, he heads straight for his phone.

His hands are shaking as he plugs it into the charger on the bedside table (knocking against Tooru’s alien-themed alarm clock, god, his stuff is _everywhere_ ), and he can’t pretend his heart isn’t slamming against his ribcage as he waits for the display to come back to life.

As soon as it does, a notification pops up, and Hajime immediately clicks it-

It’s from Makki.

His heart drops like a stone, and he pulls open Tooru’s chat just in case-

But there’s nothing.

Fucking nothing.

He drops the phone on the table and straightens up, running both hands over his face.

Fuck.

 

~

 

The third day is… awful.

At this point, what is there to think?

Somebody would have contacted him if something had happened to Tooru, right? Right?

Hajime doesn’t leave the apartment.

He stays in bed for the entire morning, scenarios running through his mind - it's been so long now, so many things could have happened-

Speculation brings him nowhere since he has no additional information, and he knows he's just getting himself more worked up. So he takes a deep breath before reaching for his phone.

It's been long enough. 

 

 **To Tooru:**  
hey

 

He hesitates, unsure what to say with the way Tooru left still weighing heavy on his mind.

 

 **To Tooru:**  
did you arrive okay?

 

It has to do for now.

He throws together a meal from whatever’s left in the pantry, but doesn’t taste a thing. He’s constantly torn between pacing the living room and sitting down in random places, trying to settle his mind and stop checking his phone every five minutes. It doesn’t help that there aren’t any classes right now to keep him busy, and he’s got the week off work - then again, maybe that’s a good thing, because he’d probably make a mess of everything with how distracted he is.

It’s like being trapped in a cage, except the cage is a mixture of worry and fear and pent-up anger with no vent.

It’s been hours, by now.

His messages have gone through, but Tooru hasn't read them.

Shit.

He should call him, right? To make sure.

But what if it's a bad time? What if he's just been busy talking to his family? A call from Hajime in that scenario wouldn't help him, it'd make everything worse-

And then the door opens. The lock clicks and there’s the usual creak, and a bag being dropped on the floor - and Hajime gets to his feet, equal parts incredulous and anxious, half-jogging the steps out into the hall.

It’s him.

After three days of nothing - it’s him.

Hajime just stares as Tooru hangs up his coat and bends to take off his shoes, placing them in their usual spot. Finally, he looks up and their eyes meet.

“Oh, hi Iwa-ch-”

And somehow, he explodes.

“What the _fuck_ , Oikawa?!”

“Uh,” Tooru says, stepping back a little, startled, “I’m home…?”

“Did you break your fucking phone? I went three days with radio silence and then you just _show up_?!”

Tooru’s expression shifts from surprise to realization, eyes widening.

“I- oh-”

“Do you know how fucking _worried_ I was?!”

At least he has the decency to look guilty. And despite everything that’s happened, Hajime is torn between wanting to punch him and needing to hug him to make sure he’s okay.

Always falling right back into their routine.

He clenches his hands into fists and forces himself to turn away. It can’t always be that easy - especially with something like this.

“Fucking unbelievable,” he spits. “You couldn’t even find the decency to let me know you were _alive_?! ‘I’ve arrived’, ‘I’m safe’, anything?”

He starts walking away, fully intent on slamming the door to whatever room he’ll find himself walking into, but Tooru grabs his wrist.

“Hajim-”

“I’m done talking to you,” Hajime says, yanking his arm out of Tooru’s grip.

He doesn’t turn back to see Tooru wrap his arms around himself.

The bedroom door closes, locking Tooru out, and the silence in its wake screams loudly in Hajime’s ears.

 

~

 

He can hear him.

The doors in this place really do nothing at all to stop the sounds, and Hajime hates that he knows this now. In fact, right now he hates pretty much everything. Most of all himself.

He’s lying on the bed ( _their_ bed) with his arms stretched out, staring at the ceiling as he listens to Tooru in the kitchen, heating up leftovers.

While the microwave whirs, his footsteps approach the door that separates them, and he stops there, tapping his foot like he’s nervous (or scared).

He stays there for a bit, and several times he opens his mouth to speak, taking an audible breath, but changes his mind before he manages any words.

Eventually, he turns around and walks away.

There’s the clink of chopsticks against a bowl, the rush of water from the kitchen tap, and then the squeak of the couch as Tooru sits down.

And then nothing for a while except tapping and then the rustle of paper.

Hajime isn’t sure how much time passes before he hears the couch again and Tooru moves to the bathroom.

He goes through his usual routine, Hajime knows it by heart and could practically see him in his mind’s eye, moving around the tiny space with more ease and grace than should be fair.

By this point, his anger has faded.

Tooru’s here, and he’s okay - and Hajime didn’t even give him the chance to explain himself. Hell, he’s been the one to close the door between them, and having Tooru so close again but with this rift between them is more painful than he could possibly have anticipated.

If he’s completely honest, the thought of curling up with him and apologizing is sounding more appealing by the second.

 

Except Tooru doesn’t come to bed.

He pads over to their door, like _always_ , but stops before he enters.

He even pushes the door open, just an inch, enough to reveal that Hajime hasn’t cared enough to turn on the lights - and then he _closes it and walks away_.

There’s the sound of the couch again, and Hajime finds the energy to sit up.

Shit.

He’s really fucked up this time.

If Tooru is afraid to come to bed-

That’s only ever happened once before, after a particularly bad fight with his parents. It’s not a memory Hajime likes to recall.

Everything’s still sort of heavy, but he pushes himself to his feet anyway. He can’t leave things like this.

 

He changes out of his clothes just for something to do, to give himself time to think about what he wants to say, and how he wants to say it. But once he’s in sweatpants and a soft shirt that’s probably Tooru’s (not that that thought is helping at all), he finds he’s still just as lost as before. He’s never been particularly good with words - but he has to do something.

And for heaven’s sake, this is _Tooru._ If he can’t talk to Tooru, he can’t expect to be able to talk to anyone else, either.

Or maybe it’s precisely because it’s Tooru that it’s so hard, because he’s terrified of fucking things up.

_Not that it could get any worse, right now._

Yeah. Well.

Hajime sighs, running his hands over his face. He stays that way for a moment, just breathing - and then he steels himself.

He can’t leave things like this.

In a couple of strides, he’s at the door, opening it carefully before he can reconsider.

The light in the living room is off, but Hajime doesn’t need it. He knows this place like the back of his hand, and his eyes immediately fall on the lump of blankets on one end of the couch that has to be him.

Sleeping out here. By himself.

Fuck.

Hajime pads over to him, knowing full-well that there’s no way Tooru doesn’t hear him coming. They’ve learned each other’s sounds in this place.

He takes a deep breath before he steps forward.

“...Tooru,” he says, voice raspier than he intends.

And oh, the way Tooru tenses at the sound of it is enough to drive a stake right through Hajime’s heart.

Slowly, he moves to sit on the other side of the couch, right at the edge - as close as he dares, right now.

He can tell Tooru is watching him, even with his own eyes trained on his hands, clasped together over his knees.

_Do something._

“...won’t, uhm. Won’t you… come to bed?”

Tooru makes a tiny, surprised sound. _Oh_ , he thinks Hajime is still angry.

That has long faded, as he realizes now. He’s not angry.

He’s scared.

_Won’t you come to bed? Won’t you stay? Stay, stay, please, stay-_

“...if you want,” Tooru says, quietly. His shoulders are hunched under the blanket, guarded, careful. _Afraid._

“If I- Tooru, of course I want that,” Hajime says, turning his head to face him. “I will never not want that.”

Tooru gives him a little shrug and a half-laugh that does nothing to conceal how his voice breaks. “...guess I… wasn’t sure, anymore.”

Oh, _oh._ No.

“Tooru. Tooru, love-”

But it’s too late. Tooru brings up his hands to cover his face, but he can’t mask the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching over a sob as he starts to cry, shoulders shaking, breaths unsteady and erratic.

Hajime closes the distance in a heartbeat, because this is not something he can take. He brings his arms up around Tooru, blanket and all, and pulls him into his lap, arms closing him in and tightening.

“Tooru-”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru gasps, and suddenly he’s throwing his arms around Hajime. The blanket slips from his shoulders and he buries his face in the crook of Hajime’s neck - and it feels like a crushing weight drops off his chest.

It’s all Hajime can do to pull him close and try to stop shaking as his eyes start stinging. _God,_ he’s missed this. _Oh,_ how he’s needed this, Tooru’s arms around him, Tooru’s voice in his ear, even if he’s crying and the only word he’s gasping out is “sorry,” over and over again.

Hajime knows, in that moment, that he loves him with every fibre of his being, and it makes him want to shut out everyone and everything and lock himself in their apartment with Tooru so nothing can ever take him away, while at the same time he feels like climbing a mountain and screaming to the world below, and even then it would never be enough.

Tooru feels, in every sense, like all Hajime needs, in that moment. Like the world could end and he’d be okay as long as he had Tooru, alive and breathing and in his arms.

“Tooru,” he breathes, voice cracking, “Tooru, Tooru, I’m- I’m sorry. It’s okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Tooru pulls back abruptly, teary eyes meeting Hajime’s in something like shock and disbelief.

“N-no, no, you don’t- I _left_! I didn’t e-even let you know I got there okay, I was s-stupid and stubborn and- and I made you worry so m-much over a dumb argument, Iwa-chan, this is my fault-”

Hajime is shaking his head, but Tooru grips his shoulders, indignant and desperate, “it is, it is! You did n-nothing wrong, I should have explained-”

“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Hajime says, and he can’t help the way his lip curls back, apologetic and sheepish, “I was stubborn and impatient and I should have _called_ you-”

Now it’s Tooru’s turn to shake his head, biting his lip in a kind of fierce determination, “I’m sorry, H-hajime, this was m-my fault, p-please, just-”

He’s already leaning closer, always reaching, always searching - Hajime brings his arms up around him again, drawing him in until he’s collapsing against Hajime’s chest, with his hands clenched to fists over the shirt that’s probably his, anyway. His. Theirs. It doesn’t matter.

“You’re home now,” Hajime mumbles into his hair, and Tooru squeezes him in response. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters. You’re okay.”

And it’s true. When they manage to get up from the couch and move to the bed (Tooru refuses to let go, so Hajime half-carries him back to their room, their bed, their home), all that Hajime registers is Tooru’s breath against his neck, Tooru’s hands on his back and in his hair, Tooru’s lips pressing apologies into his skin.

It’s not until later, when Tooru is asleep in Hajime’s arms, features finally relaxed and _resting,_ that Hajime has time to think about the day’s events. About the bags under Tooru’s eyes and his strained expression.

About the decision looming over their heads.

That night, Hajime barely sleeps.

 

~

 

It doesn’t come up until the next day. They’ve fallen back into the routine they need - or, well, Hajime needs. Waking with Tooru by his side means more than ever, especially when Tooru whispers a soft “I missed you,” muffled where his face is pressed into Hajime’s chest.

It feels familiar. Warm. But also, somehow, there’s dread in the back of Hajime’s mind.

But he knows Tooru does things on his own time. And he knows that trust is the foundation of their relationship - years and years and years of it.

He can’t start doubting now. He has to believe Tooru will tell him everything, of his own accord.

 

"Hajime?"

Hajime looks up, eyebrows already drawing together ever so slightly. He lowers his book, finding Tooru's gaze over their legs, tangled together in the middle of the couch, each of them resting against opposite ends.

"...I think I have to accept this offer," Tooru says.

Hajime closes the book, carefully placing it on the coffee table.

"...to America," he says - because what else would Tooru be talking about with this much sincerity and a complete lack of his usual smile.

"...yes. I think... I think, for volleyball, and for my future, I need... I need to go."

But there's something in the way he says it that rubs Hajime the wrong way. He sits up straighter, nudging Tooru's thigh with his toe.

"Explain," he says, and folds his arms over his knees, leaning his chin against them.

Tooru gives a short shrug. "It's... what makes most sense."

"... you've thought about it a lot."

Of course he has. He does, about everything. He never makes uncalculated decisions.

Tooru nods, pulling his own legs back a little. His fingers are fiddling with the ring again. Hajime fights the urge to ask all the questions burning on his tongue. _Why? When? For how long?_

"It's... it makes sense on every level, really. For volleyball. For... the future. For us."

Hajime blinks, an uncomfortable mix of anger and fear and disappointment flaring up inside him. But he's promised himself he wouldn't start yelling. He has to be better than this.

_Trust._

"...I don't understand," he says instead, as calmly as possible.

Tooru sighs, resting his head against the backrest of the couch, looking up at Hajime from beneath his bangs.

"I love you, Iwa-chan," he says. "...probably... probably too much. Or... well, enough to consider throwing everything away for you."

Hajime knows he means this. He's done this, for crying out loud. He's lost his father's affection and guidance, his mother's trust in his judgment, their financial support, and inadvertently also his reputation with all his relatives as well. He's thrown away everything familiar, for Hajime.

"Tooru-"

"I love you too much, and I've become... I've become weak."

Hajime abruptly sits up straight. "Loving someone isn't weakness."

Tooru shakes his head, holding up his hand. "No, I know it's not. That's not what I meant. I... I still love you, Iwa-chan, and I'm pretty sure I'll never stop, for as long as I live. And knowing that is... the most reassuring thing, really. I know I'll always... I'll always want to be a part of your life. You make me feel safe, and loved."

Hajime senses the "but" before it comes.

"But- I can't make progress here. I want... to be someone you can be proud of, but I can't do that here. I know I've been... depending too much on you, and I know I've been growing complacent. I need to move, or I'll go crazy. I need to go out and prove that I can still reach the top."

"...to whom?" Hajime asks quietly. "I know you can." _I'm already proud. I've always been proud of you._ He wonders, in that instant, what his parents must have said to him.

Tooru nods, and his smile is incredibly sad. "I know you believe that. You've always had endless faith in me, Iwa-chan, and that should... that should be enough for me. But I... I won't believe it until I see it. I won't rest until I reach the top and see it for myself."

And Hajime watches the fire return to Tooru's eyes as he speaks, the spark that Hajime first fell in love with when they both started playing volleyball. The promise of _I'll show you something incredible_.

This life, Hajime realizes, as comfortable and warm as it might be, is sucking the energy out of him.

"...you belong with the stars," he says quietly. "...and I can't follow you there."

Tooru holds his gaze, unusually calm. "I'm not asking you to."

"...what do you want from me, Tooru?"

"I won't ask you to wait," Tooru says - and the ring slips off his finger and into his palm. Just like that. "I'm not asking you to keep this for me, to cheer me on from the sidelines. Your place isn't on the sidelines, Hajime."

Their eyes meet - and Hajime understands. He holds out his hand, and Tooru drops the ring into his palm. "Damn right - it's beside you. And you don't need to ask me any of these things."

Tooru nods. "...because I know you'll do them anyway. So... now it's my turn to prove that I'm serious."

Hajime reaches to cup his free hand around Tooru's cheek. "...how long?"

"Six months. Or... until I've fought as hard for us as you have."

He smiles, even as his heart sinks. Falls. Breaks.

"I can't talk you out of this, can I."

"No."

He tilts his head to one side, thumb lightly brushing over Tooru's lips.

"...I love you, dumbass," he says. But Tooru has always been more. It only makes sense, really. No matter how much it hurts.

"You'd better come back to me."

 

~

 

The night before Tooru leaves, Hajime barely sleeps.

On the outside, it might seem as if nothing has changed. Tooru is the first one to give in to the need for sleep, and rises from the couch slowly, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. He reaches out with the other to tangle his fingers with Hajime's and pull him along, a silent plea in his eyes that says _come with me, please, like always_.

Following Tooru is an instinct; always has been. To stop him from crying and coax him back out to play. To make he sure he doesn't hurt or embarrass himself, or at least to be there to stand up for him if he does. To keep up with his terrifying pace. To remind him that he's still here, he always will be, and there's no need to live life like he's running out of time.

He lets himself be pulled up, but he can't mask the sadness he feels. Tooru's expression mirrors the sentiment, and he knows Hajime can tell - so instead of letting him see, he pulls Hajime close and briefly buries his face in his neck.

It’s an offering, a gift, to not think about tomorrow just yet, and though Hajime knows that at some point they have to confront this, right now he can’t. Not with Tooru pressed against him, taking over all of his senses, feeling like _home_.

 

When he wakes, it’s still dark outside - but the softness of the night before is starting to fade, making way for the harsh reality of what’s to come.

Hajime knows he has to let Tooru go.

He also knows it will break him.

Tooru is pressed up against him like he always is, head buried between his shoulder and his chin, lips brushing his neck. Hajime can feel every breath he takes, the rise and fall of his chest, the beating of his heart. It _hurts_.

He knows they have to get up soon - Tooru’s suitcase is out in the hall, packed and ready - but a glance to their alarm clock (their nightstand, their bed, their room, _their life_ , about to become… only his), reluctant as it may be because it will tell him that this is almost over, tells him they still have a tiny bit of time. Enough for him to swallow his tears and press kisses to Tooru’s forehead as he pulls him closer, arms tightening, heart clenching.

He remembers playgrounds and dirt, letters and volleyballs, a pale blue button and a ring in a black box. Nervous fingers. Small, apologetic smiles and the fire in Tooru’s eyes.

_I’ll show you something great._

He thinks of promises in the dark, in the rain, under the stars. _You'd take me with you?_

It hurts.

Slowly, softly, Tooru blinks awake. Hajime can tell by the shift of his chest, the tiny sound at the back of his throat, and by the way he nuzzles closer, breathing Hajime in. Always, always.

“...hey,” Hajime whispers, and for once he doesn’t care that he sounds just as desperate and sad as he feels.

Reality is looming just above them, Hajime can feel it seeping in - but Tooru isn’t letting it win just yet.

“...love you,” he mumbles, kissing at Hajime’s jaw, and Hajime can’t help the way his breath hitches.

_Don’t leave me._

 

There’s not much time, even when they peel themselves out of bed, slow and careful, fingers still linked as Hajime follows Tooru into the bathroom. It feels like it's running out, like sand through an hourglass.

They brush their teeth side by side, as always, (Tooru packs his toothbrush when he’s done. Hajime looks away.) then Tooru strips off his shirt and opens the shower door.

He glances over his shoulder at Hajime, who is watching him. (Always, always.)

He doesn’t have to say “join me.”

Hajime rubs shampoo into Tooru’s hair, reveling in the familiar smell, in the closeness, in the way Tooru seems to melt under his hands.

_Oh, oh, what will I do without you…?_

“...six months,” Tooru whispers, as if he’d read his mind.

“...it’s not forever,” Hajime whispers back. _But it will feel like it._

“I already miss you,” Tooru breathes, barely audible over the rush of the water. “Is that weird?”

Hajime pulls back, then, swallowing the pained chuckle that rises in his throat.

“...I love you so much,” he says, “so much, you don’t even know.”

Tooru shakes his head, and maybe the shower is doing too good of a job hiding both of their tears.

“I know,” he whispers, “I know, I know, I know-”

And they’re kissing, and it’s soft and wet and Hajime’s heart tears into a million pieces that nothing can fix.

 

Tooru is quiet on the drive to the airport.

“You didn’t have to do this, Iwa-chan.”

“I know.”

There’s nothing left to say.

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_Don’t go._

 

Tooru still twists his fingers in his lap, even though the ring is gone. Hajime reaches over to give him something to hold on to.

“Call me,” he whispers, “promise me you’ll call.“

Tooru nods and fights back tears.

There’s one last hug, one last breath against Hajime’s neck, one last squeeze of those arms around his waist.

Hajime isn’t fighting the tears anymore.

“I love you,” Tooru promises, and then he’s gone.

 

The ring is in Hajime’s desk drawer now.

_I won’t ask you to wait._

But Hajime will. As long as it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr.](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com)


	4. Pinky swear that I'm the one you love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru is silent for entirely too long.  
> “... I trust you,” is what he finally says.  
> And Hajime thinks he understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been too long - but I am absolutely thrilled to present you with the final chapter of this fic!!

_The train enters the station_  
_Track 11 on the Philadelphia line_  
 _He was early, now he's waiting_  
 _And the people rush the doors_  
 _Some are laughing, some are crying_  
 _Up on the platform, he scans the crowd_  
 _He doesn't see her, he looks all around_  
 _The damn disappointment hangs like a shroud -_  
 _Suddenly a voice rings out_

_Says_

_"Tell me all your secrets and I won't tell anybody_  
_Pinky swear that I'm the one you love_  
 _When the world is dark and you could swear you've got nobody_  
 _Look to the sky, it's written in the stars_  
 _Cross my heart"_

  
~~~

The nights are the worst.

Tooru's absence is louder than anything, and it consumes everything, making the world bleak and gray and empty.

Hajime sleeps on his side of the bed, even though the pillows no longer smell like him.

Sometimes, he finds himself unconsciously filling two cups of coffee.

He knows it’s just a limited time - it’s not that long. But it feels almost impossible to breathe. Tooru has always been beside him, always, _always -_ and now he’s not there.

Hajime finds himself saying things out loud in the hopes that Tooru will somehow respond.

 

He misses him so much that he physically aches.

 

Of course they talk. Tooru calls, as often as he can. His scholarship is tough, and when he’s not training with his new team, he’s studying for his exams - his English is good, but not perfect, and he struggles to understand the more complex topics sometimes.

He doesn’t tell Hajime this, naturally. But Hajime has learned that he can read Tooru’s tone just as well as he could read his face.

Their calls started out slightly stilted, but with time (reluctantly), Hajime has gotten used to them. They’re a new kind of connection - one he hates because nothing feels further away than a disembodied voice, a lack of warmth, an empty space beside him that aches to be filled - but still one he clings to, because he will take everything he can get.

He’s promised to wait. And he will.

(The ring has moved to the bedside table. When he’s afraid the tears will come, he reaches for it.

It rarely works.)

His life has continued as before; warm, safe, comfortable - but the feeling of home is gone. Meanwhile Tooru is running and growing and _doing things_ and Hajime can’t help the gut-wrenching fear that he feels.

He knows Tooru hears it, in the quieter moments, though he’s quick to change the topic. Always trying to make Hajime smile.

(That hurts even more.)

 

It’s one of the worse nights. He’s curled around a pillow, wrapped in one of Tooru’s sweaters, the night that he starts to crack.

(Nothing here smells like him anymore.)

"I need you," he whispers into the receiver, and his voice breaks a little.

It's not fair of him to be like this, and he knows it. He promised Tooru he wouldn't. He promised it would be okay, that he would be okay. But he isn’t, today. Not at all.

If he’s honest, he hasn’t been, for a long time.

There's silence on the other end of the line, then Tooru sighs.

"That's... not fair, Iwa-chan."

"You're the one who isn't fair," he says quietly. He doesn't want to start a fight, doesn't mean it in a way that will make him angry. But he doesn't want to lie and say he's fine, either.

"Yeah, well. I never made any promises."

"I'm sorry, Oikawa. I'll... I'll figure this out somehow, okay? Don't... don't let anything hold you back over there, alright?"

Tooru huffs out a half-chuckle on the other end. "How am I supposed to do that now?"

Hajime steels himself, because he cannot fuck this up.

"I just... It's fine, really. I miss you, is all. Guess I got a little carried away. And I... I figured telling you was better than lying about it."

There's that silence again, and it feels a little heavy. Hajime wishes more than ever he were here, so he could tell him everything he needs to know with just a glance and the touch of a hand.

It's been months since he's touched him, he realizes, and feels another weight settle across his chest.

"It's a little harder than I thought, that's all," he adds, just to be saying something, to break this silence.

"Yeah."

It's so small, and Hajime wishes more than ever that he could see him, so he'd know what's going on in that head of his, so he could save him from the worst.

"Hey, Iwa-chan."

"Yeah?"

"Would you hate me if I did something selfish?"

What a question.

Hajime hesitates, letting out a breath. "...depends on what it is."

Tooru stalls, searching for words. "Well... you're right. This is... hard. And I think... I think it might be easier if we don't talk for a while."

 

The words seem to echo. Hajime blinks.

"How- how is that easier?!"

"It would be. For me. Probably... probably harder for you."

He’s sat up, though he’s not sure when it happened. The pillow falls uselessly to the side.

"How so? You're the one who needs to be reassured and-"

"I know, though," Tooru interrupts. "I know by now, what you'd say if you were here. I think I'll be okay. Just... when I hear you say things like that, that you miss me, that you need me, I... I start regretting my decision to come here."

Hajime is torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap him.

"Wh- Tooru, you're-"

"Selfish. I know. I... I keep asking you to endure things for my sake. I ask you to wait, to be patient, to trust me, and all I ever do is push you around. You'd think... you'd think you'd be better off without me, Iwa-chan."

That’s too much, too much at once. It feels like his head is starting to spin.

"Whoa, no. Hold on."

But Tooru isn't listening.

"I’ve thought about this, Iwa-chan. I need… I need to learn to be without you, for a while. So I can come back to you stronger. I need-”

“Shut up!” Hajime cuts in, and he can barely hear himself over the rush of his heartbeat in his ears. “Stop, Tooru, stop talking like that!”

“Hajime-”

“No, you listen to me for once!” He’s starting to hyperventilate, he can tell, but he can’t just let this slide- “Tooru - isn’t it enough that you’re so far away? Who are you trying to prove anything to? I thought- we’re- we’re together, aren’t we? So why do you want to shut me out? Tooru, it’s- it’s okay to need people!”

Tooru manages a strangled sort of laugh. “I’ll never understand,” he says, and his voice goes quiet, “how you can love me so unconditionally when I’m so far from as good as I could be. But you… you’ve always seen my potential, and that’s been enough for you. It’s… it’s not enough for me.”

“Don’t do this,” Hajime whispers. “This- this isn’t just about you.”

“...I knew you’d be upset. But… I trust you to understand, Hajime. Understand me.”

The tears have started, somewhere along the way.

“I _am,”_ he breathes. “I am. I’m trying as hard as I can. But what you’re asking, it’s… I don’t know if I can do it.”

“It’s three more months,” Tooru reminds him. “We’re already half-way there. And Hajime, I- I miss you so much it hurts, too. But this, these calls… they’re making it worse. They’re making it harder.”

“...don’t you want me to be a part of your life anymore…?”

He knows the question is cruel - but Tooru has never played fair, either.

“I trust us to always find our way back to each other, no matter where we go,” Tooru says. “I trust that when I go my way, and you go yours, we’ll find each other again.”

Hajime thinks of the job he’s been half-heartedly continuing. Thinks of the unanswered messages from Makki and Mattsun on his phone.

“...did you know?” he asks, slowly.

The tears have stopped.

“Know what, Iwa-chan?”

“...that I’ve been falling. Isolating myself.” _Grieving,_ he thinks. Grieving a loss that’s not even happened.

Tooru is silent for entirely too long.

“... I trust you,” is what he finally says.

And Hajime thinks he understands.

 

He stops counting the days, after that.

He gets up earlier, goes for a run. Works an extra shift.

Slowly, slowly, the world feels less empty.

 

Tooru looks to the sky at night, and smiles at the stars.

“I’ll be home soon,” he says, a promise into the wind.

 

Somewhere, somehow, Hajime hears him.

Their trust is the same.

 

~~~

 

He’s early.

Despite the not-counting-mentality, he’s been staring at the date marked red in his (their, _their)_ calendar for days.

Today is the day. The waiting is over.

Tooru is coming home.

Hajime finds himself nervous, but it's mostly the good kind.

Somewhere deep down, he's probably a little scared - there's a lot of "what if"s circling the back of his mind - but he pushes those thoughts away. No matter what happens - trust.

He knows Tooru has changed, because he’s changed, too.

But that was the point, right? Growth.

And proof, to Tooru (and, if Hajime is honest, to himself as well) that they can flourish separately - but they’d rather do it together.

It’s  not about needing. It’s about choice.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out, fingers brushing against the ring as he does so.

He’s taken to carrying it around. It should be safe to bring it, this time around.

_Choice._

He blinks, turning his attention to his phone, to the message flashing at him on the screen. There’s only been one since that last call - the date, and the details of his train’s arrival at their station.

 

**From: Tooru**

5 minutes, iwa-chan

 

Hajime smiles into his jacket, fingers gripping the small device a little tighter.

 

**To: Tooru**

I'm here

 

It takes mere seconds before his phone buzzes again.

 

**From: Tooru**

can't wait to see you

 

He can picture Tooru already standing at the door, tapping his foot impatiently, willing the train to go faster. He would get restless, so close to being home.

(He’d always take off running as soon as he saw Hajime, whenever they’d been separated.)

 

**To: Tooru**

I know

 

One of his favorite Star Wars lines. It’s thanks to him that Hajime knows all the movies by heart. _I love you. - I know._

It should be enough.

 

**To: Tooru**

me too

 

He's momentarily startled by an announcement overhead - _Ladies and Gentlemen, the next train will be arriving shortly. Please stand clear of the tracks._

 

Looking down at the ground, he takes a step back, his head already turning in the direction he know Tooru will be coming from.

The last few minutes pass agonizingly slowly. Hajime glances back at his phone frequently, and he almost jolts in surprise when he sees another message pop up in the open chat window.

 

**From: Tooru**

back of the train

 

And then he hears it.

A whistle blows softly, and he realizes he's on the wrong end of the tracks.

The train rolls into the station and stops with a squeaking of breaks. The doors open, and people flood the platform. Hajime takes another step back. Damn it.

Suddenly, he finds himself fighting his way through a larger crowd that he'd expected, and he still has a ways to go. He cranes his neck, trying to spot him, prepared to call out.

But he doesn't see him.

He reaches the end, narrowly avoiding an elderly lady pulling a large suitcase, and stops, slightly out of breath. Then he turns, scanning the crowd, his heart beating way too loudly in his chest.

He's got to be here. He's got to be.

Screw it.

"Tooru?" he calls, his voice sounding so much more anxious than he wants it to. And his mind is racing, _he’s got to be here, he’s got to be-_

A voice tears through the din of the crowd, shattering all his doubts with incredible precision.

"HAJIME!"

His eyes finally find him, and everything else falls away. Before he knows what's happening, he's running.

 

They slam into each other at full force, their momentum smashing them together harder than they probably intended, but as frantic hands twist into the back of his shirt, as Tooru buries his head in the crook of Hajime's neck - where he belongs, where he feels safe - and as he hears that voice, _his voice,_ gasping for breath between sobs and a shaky chant of "Hajime, Hajime, Hajime", he realizes that none of it, nothing matters. Nothing matters except Tooru, and he's here, _he's here,_ and Hajime is crying, honest-to-God crying, his own fingers curling over Tooru's jacket as he pulls him closer, closer, never close enough.

"Tooru," he chokes, and all his doubts are gone.

 

This, this right here, this is it. There's no other options, to replacements, no getting over it. If people spend their lives looking for some sort of truth, Hajime has found his. He found it years and years ago, in the form of a tiny hand gripping his sleeve, found it in hours upon hours of playing, fighting, encouragement and tears shared with the person crying in his arms, found it even before he knew he was searching. It's in countless sleepless nights of worry and nightmares as well as the exhiliration of their heights, of successes on the court and small moments of triumph.

It's in the way Tooru's eyes shine when he finally looks up at him, wet with open happiness and longing and relief and love, so much love. It's in the genuine smile that he gives him, like a gift, before he leans forward to deliver another.

It's in the soft touch of Tooru's lips on his own that sets him on fire and reminds him why all of this, everything, is worth it. And the distance, the insecurity, the doubt - none of it matters. Because he loves Oikawa Tooru with everything he has, and he's never been so sure of anything in his entire life.

 

Tooru breaks away for air and takes a second to stare at Hajime, drinking him in like he's going to paint him, wash him clean of everything that's happened and drench him in new colors. Hajime wishes he would, wants to be molded by those hands, wants Tooru to give him purpose. He gets the feeling that Tooru knows this, that he feels this, that it's the same for him.

They hold each other's gazes, breathless, Tooru's bags scattered on the ground around them, before Hajime breaks the silence. He drops to his knees - not one but both, his hand fumbling in his pocket.

"Marry me," he gasps, and there's so much more he wants to say but he has no words for what he's feeling, nothing that could encompass the magnitude of what Tooru does to him, has always done to him. Might as well ask him again.

Tooru's breath hitches as fresh tears stream down his face, and he reaches for the hand that's now holding the ring, enclosing it with both of his own, slender white fingers against Hajime's darker skin.

Hajime thinks, briefly, somewhere, that he’d give anything to see Tooru’s face every day for the rest of his life.

"Yes," Tooru gasps, and then, like he can't believe it himself, he says it again. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes...!"

And he's bringing their lips together once more, not caring that people are staring by now, not caring that he's practically on top of Hajime at this point, carding his fingers through his hair as he tips his head, trying to get a better angle.

"Tooru," Hajime gasps between kisses, like he still can't believe it, like it's too much, too soon, but he'd never let go if his life depended on it. "Tooru, I love you, I love you-"

He tugs him to the ground with him, place and time forgotten, and pulls him close, one hand grabbing the collar of his shirt and one buried in his hair.

Tooru lets out a shuddering breath, slowly breaking their lips apart so he can move to kiss at Hajime's face, his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. Hajime lets him, closes his eyes and just feels, feels every touch and drinks it in, because he's been starved for this for so, so long.

Somehow they become conscious again of the movement around them, people watching them, people bustling around, coming and going, the train's whistle blowing to signal its imminent departure.

Tooru's eyes shift to watch it pull away, then he turns back to Hajime and his gaze softens. He's a mess, his face wet from his tears and his eyes red and blotchy, but Hajime thinks he's never seen him look more beautiful than right then.

"Iwa-chan," he whispers, back to the nickname, back to who they are, who they were, who they will always be.

"Take me home...?"

Hajime smiles, reaching for the setter's hand. "Stay this time...?"

Tooru lets out air in what can almost be called a chuckle.

And then, without failure, the truth comes out.

"I don't think I could leave you again, Iwa-chan."

Hajime pulls him closer.

"Good."

 

~

 

He wakes with a warm weight on his chest, and it takes him half a second to remember that this is what his life looks like now, that he's not alone anymore and he never has to be. Warmth floods through him and he can't stop the smile tearing across his face as he looks down at Tooru, at the mess if hair and limbs on top of him. He's struck again by how beautiful he is, and by how incredibly precious Tooru's happiness is to him.

He reaches out and threads his fingers through Tooru's hair.

Tooru stirs, his eyes fluttering open. He seems to take a second as well, his brain catching up, and then a dazzling smile spreads across his face.

"Iwa-chan," he mutters, his voice pleasantly soft. The light from the window catches in his eyes, and Hajime finds himself breathless all of a sudden, struck once again by the sheer amount of unconditional love that he feels towards him.

"Tooru," Hajime whispers, and it's too much, too strong, and he almost chokes on his next breath.

Tooru holds his gaze for a moment, then moves up and brings their lips together. It's soft, gentle, and Hajime feels like he's going to burst. He wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer, increases the pressure.

Tooru senses his urgency and breaks away with a soft laugh. "What's wrong? Hajime?"

Hajime notices that his breathing is erratic and his heart is beating loudly in his ears, almost loud enough to drown out all other sound.

"Tooru," he gasps, and then he says it again, because the twist it makes in his chest is addictive. "Tooru. Tooru-"

Tooru's eyes soften and he strokes Hajime's cheek with his thumb. "...yes?" he says, gazing at his face.

Hajime is struggling to remember how to breathe, but Tooru seems calm, collected. He waits patiently for Hajime to catch his breath.

"I can't- I just- you're home, you're _home_ and I love you so much, you have no idea-"

Suddenly there are lips covering his own, cutting him off mid-ramble.

"But I do," Tooru whispers against his mouth. Hajime is distracted by the soft huff of air he exhales against him, and it takes him a second to focus on what Tooru's saying.

"I know exactly how much you love me, Iwa-chan. I know because I wake up every morning with that same tightness and incredulity in my chest, with that same feeling of being about to burst when I see that you're still here, that I wasn't dreaming, that you really... that we're really..."

"I love you," Hajime interrupts, a strangled gasp, followed by another, and another, "I love you, I love you, Tooru. Everything you are, everything you were- everything. I don't know what to do, or what to say, but I love you, I love-"

Tooru cuts him off with another kiss, ending it with a soft chuckle.

"You're stealing my lines, love. How do you think we've come so far? Why do you think I'm here, and I'm never gonna leave?"

He huffs a little, as if the mere idea seems preposterous to him.

"God knows I love you, Hajime. I always have. And I love that you love me. I love that you're just as lost, just as transfixed as I am. I love every goddamn tear, every little laugh, every smile, every touch. I love waking up next to you, and coming home to you waiting for me. I love cooking for the two of us, and all the little arguments, the half-hearted slaps I always get, and the softness in your eyes afterwards. I love how much you care, how much you do for me, how much you give me every day by just existing."

Tooru doesn't get to say another word, because Hajime cuts him off with another kiss, desperate and sloppy and frantic because he can't take it, can't listen to more of this or he'll burst.

"You're... you're amazing," he whispers into the space between them that barely exists anymore, in between tiny gasps for air.

Tooru is shaking his head, but his eyes are damp.

"No, no- can't you see? Hajime, you're the amazing one."

He cups Hajime's face in his hands, running his thumb over the arch of his eyebrow, staring into his eyes like he's drowning in them as well. "After everything I've done, after all the pain I've put you through, you're still here. You have no idea how much that means to me. You save me every single day-"

"It's all I can do, Tooru. It's... It's the only truth I know, that I need you, that I love you-"

"That's the only truth I need," he says, and he buries his face in Hajime's shoulder. "That's all I'll ever need, all I could ask for. You. You, you, you."

"You've got me," Hajime tells him, pressing kisses to the side of his face and his hair.

An indisputable fact they both know.

"You'll always have me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, there you have it!!  
> This project has been following me for way too long - I loved working on it, but I'm also happy to be able to put it down and move on to other things now.  
> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me for so long, and everyone who's only just clicked on this. I hope you enjoyed your stay.  
> Any and all comments are very, very welcome :D  
> Find me on tumblr and ko-fi @frenchibi - be the first to donate and support me!


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